The Phone Moan
by Grave Bells
Summary: A game in which one person goes down on another, and the one receiving must call a friend and hold a normal conversation with them for as long as possible. When the friend figures out what's going on, the game is over. Bujeet, Phineas's POV. R&R


_**The Phone Moan**_

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><p>'<em>Cause everyday's a brand new day! Baby, carpe diem~!<em>

Phineas, who was lounging comfortably on his bed reading a comic, reached over and grabbed his phone from the foot-board.

"Y'ello?" he answered, putting the call on speaker phone so he could properly turn pages while he read.

"H-hello, Phineas," A familiar accent stuttered on the other line, a certain tone of nervousness in his voice as he spoke.

"Baljeet? What's up, dude?" Phineas asked cheerfully, turning the page of his comic.

"O-oh, nothing, really." Baljeet's fidgeting could be heard over the speaker. "I was just… curious as to what y-you might be doing at this current point in ti-_I -_me."

The ginger frowned a bit at the crack in his friend's voice, and glanced across the room to were his step-brother was seated on his own mattress. The two shared a look before Phineas responded.

"Well, Ferb and I are proof-reading the second issue of our comic book, but otherwise we aren't doing anything," he replied, moving the bound paper off to the side. He rolled over onto his back. "Why?"

The was a distinctly wet noise over his friend's phone as he spoke, and when Phineas finished speaking he caught onto the end of an improperly forced down moan.

"N-n-no reason," Baljeet spoke, his voice shaking and forced as he continued the conversation. "I-I just figured – _Nnnph!_" _Thump_. "-Th-that maybe you two had some k-kind of- _AH!_"

There was a muffled bump, and Phineas could only guess his friend had dropped the phone. The ginger, once again, shared a look of confusion with the green-haired male across the room.

"Baljeet?"

After some scrambling and panting, a nervous laugh echoed out of the technology. "Hah, hah hah! I am so sorry, I am v-very clums-EEE!"

Phineas furrowed his brows and sat up. "Baljeet, are you okay?"

"YES!" Baljeet yelped. "I-I-I mean, yes! I am just – _mmmf!_ – d-dandy!"

Ferb narrowed his eyes.

"You don't sound okay," Phineas replied, picking the phone up to hold it by his mouth.

"L-look, I was just calling to-" The ginger held the phone away from his face when his ethnic friend emitted a rather embarrassing-sounding noise. Ferb buried his face in his hands, and sighed. "_Would you stop doing-! Ahh!_"

"Baljeet, I don't know what's going on over there, but I'm definitely not picking up a 'dandy' vibe from you," Phineas spoke seriously, quirking a brow. "Do you need me to come over?"

"NO!" Baljeet panted into the phone for a moment before continuing. "N-No! It is fine! I am fine! Are you t-thinking of building anything fantastic toda-AAAYY-ee?"

"We were thinking about it…" The inventor said slowly, suspiciously. "But you don't-" He was cut off by a particularly loud moan. He coughed. "…. Don't have to help us…"

More panting, and now even some whining. "B-b-b-but I l-like helping – _oh god_," Baljeet tried, the sounds of quick moving and the shuffling of fabric eking through the microphone on his phone. "I-I like h-he-elping… _shit_."

Ferb stared at Phineas, who quickly found his face hot in realization.

"Baljeet, why did you call me?"

A bit of hissing and a nervous gulp sounded from the Indian's side of the conversation. There was a forced silence, as if Baljeet had chosen to hold his breath. After a few moments a deeper, gruff voice growled something along the lines of 'No lyin', remember?'

Phineas, who's inkling had just been confirmed, was suddenly _very_ aware of what was happening on the other line. He buried his face in his hands.

"I-I am so sorry, my – _nnn! Oh!_ – f-friend," Baljeet finally mumbled out, embarrassment and shame ever so present as he stumbled. "B-but you know how the—"

"How the game works?" The ginger interrupted, saving the poor teen the trouble of trying to explain in such a situation. "Yes, unfortunately I do. Don't worry about it either; I know Buford must have roped you into playing it." He scrunched up his nose. "By the way, could you thank him for the unsettling mental image of him sucking you off? I've been meaning to get better acquainted with my psychiatrist."

When Baljeet made a noise Phineas preferred to interpret as an attempt to respond, he thought it might be better just to save him the humiliation. "No no, don't say anything back. Just do what I say when I hang up, alright? Oh, and next time you two play the Phone Moan game, please, for the love of god, don't call me again. Not only will you lose very quickly, since I.. know what you sound like when you're.. in.. situations… now and will guess what you're doing very quickly," He winced a bit. "But I also really, really, _really_ don't want to scrub my brain with bleach."

"I-I-I-I'm so s-s-s-sorry- _o-oh, ah!_ _Hnn!_" Baljeet forcibly apologized, the shaking of his hands on his cell creating a strange vibrating effect on his voice.

"I'm hanging up now! Goodbye, Baljeet!"

Phineas couldn't hit the END button fast enough. His face as bright red as a tomato, he flopped over and buried his face in his pillow.

"That game never gets any less awkward," Ferb commented, nonchalantly scooping up his comic book.

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><p>Buford licked his lips as he emerged from between his boyfriend's quivering thighs, snickering gently to himself at his victory. He smirked as he leaned over Baljeet's aftershock ridden frame. One of his fingers traced up the side of the other boy's richly toned skin before he caught his chin between his own pale fingers.<p>

Baljeet was panting and his eyelids were half closed, but that didn't stop Buford leaning over to his ear to whisper:

"_Your turn_."

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><p>Holy crap, I don't think I've ever been able to turn out 3 drabbles, no matter how short, for one couple in a couple of days. This is so weird for me.<p>

Inspired by a Tumblr Post.


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